Kepler's Story
by ArtisticVicu
Summary: Sequel to Othertale: The solution for the Overworld has been found. Sans is at the forefront of everything, drowning himself in work so that he could keep the grief at bay. But when life throws a miracle at him, he isn't sure if he should be grateful or resentful that the miracle survived? Spoiler: he's grateful, but man does he have a few choice words for the how and the why.


**Kepler's Story**

_Chapter 1_

He jerked awake with a strangled cry. A few papers scattered at his sudden movement but he had gotten better at making sure there weren't important things around when he was fighting against sleep and was losing.

He rubbed at his face, exhaustion pulling at him. The hour long nap had done nothing for it beyond make it worse from the same nightmare.

_A body in a pool of blood._

_ A hole where a heart should be._

_ A black mass grinning._

A shudder rushed down his spine and he quickly shook his head, dislodging the thoughts as he reached out blindly. Boney fingers closed around paper and he found his focus turning to the mess around him. The page in his hand was one of a large set and for a time he busied his mind and hands with putting the packet back together.

He found himself at the end of cleaning up the entire lab when someone knocked on the door. He stepped away and walked over, keying it open. A familiar face grinned at him. He hadn't cared to remember the other's name.

"Morning, Sans," the other scientist greeted, far too chipper for Sans's taste. "Ready to see how far we can get today?"

The smile was fake but he had long since perfected it. "Yea. Let me get a few things and I'll meet you there."

The scientist left and Sans closed the lab door. He was tempted to lock it and bury himself in other work - he wasn't sure he could handle a room full of people - but just turning had a sort of after image memory filling in space near where he had been sleeping and he promptly snatched what he needed before leaving.

Nearly four months and he was still being haunted by Alex's ghost. He had tried - oh how he had tried - to get over it but Alex had left a weight on his soul that wasn't getting any easier to burden. He found it hard to do anything yet sleep was filled with a single nightmare that wouldn't go away. So he did the only thing he could do: work.

It wasn't that hard to keep busy. There was plenty to do despite finding the solution for the toxic Overworld air. At the moment, they were in the middle of planning how to disperse the solution. Ideas were still in the air so it was a matter of deciding which were feasible and which weren't.

There was still no communication from the other Undergrounds.

He entered the large conference space. It almost looked like a science fair with all the tables and wheeled display boards but there were far too many computers and too large of a mess for it to be completely accurate. He found his way to his normal table in the middle of everything and busied himself for another eighteen hours.

He would have pushed it to twenty if Papyrus hadn't shown up and dragged him away. He had gone without a struggle even as he mentally fought against his brother's action. He needed to stay busy. He couldn't slow.

But Papyrus had promised food and his entire being threatened to turn on him if he went without food for much longer.

The kitchen and dining room were completely empty. Sans felt his exhausted sockets widen in his surprise. He very rarely saw it completely empty of life. "What time is it?"

"Almost three in the morning." The fridge was opened. "I have a shift in a few hours so I figured I'd make sure you ate something and then got some sleep."

He gave that fake smile again as his soul thrummed in his chest. "Ah, Pap. You don't have to do that. I'd have wandered to bed at some point."

Something was tucked into the already warm oven. "When was the last time you ate?"

He winced. He couldn't actually remember and with how hungry his body - his _magic_ \- was, it was probably over 24 hours since his last _good_ meal. "I think I nibbled on something a few hours ago," he offered with a sheepish grin. He faintly remembered a bowl of chips offered to him at one point but that could have been the day before for all he knew.

Papyrus gave him a flat look. He let out a heavy sigh and dropped all pretense. It made his bones feel even heavier. "Fine. I'm not sure. Probably been a good while. I haven't been keeping track."

Something shifted in Papyrus's expression. "I want you to try and make an effort to eat more regularly, Sans. Alex would be disappointed in you if you offed yourself from a lack of self-care and overworking."

He sucked in a sharp breath, face curling into a snarl. Rage fueled by grief had him shaking his finger at his brother. "Don't you dare use him in this."

"What else am I to use, because you sure as hell ain't going to do it for me if you can't even do it for yourself!" Papyrus's words were nearly physical as they slammed into him and Sans recoiled from the blow. The world swayed around him. Papyrus kept pushing. "You overwork, barely eat, and hardly sleep. I'm not stupid."

"Of course you're not," Sans agreed vehemently, trying - and failing - to focus on his brother. His vision wasn't focusing and he couldn't even tell if he still had eyelights in his sockets. His magic was wavering all over the place.

"Then stop dealing with this on your own." His soul clenched at the crack in Papyrus's voice. "You weren't the only one he left behind."

He sucked in a breath as guilt swallowed him. It dragged at him as the world threatened to yank his feet out from under him. He needed to sit down before he collapsed. "Pap." He took a step towards his brother. "I'm-shit, Pap, I'm so sorry. I should have-I couldn't."

He pressed the heel of his hand to his left socket as strength seemed to vanish from his body, bones tingling as his magic suddenly gave out.

He came to groggy. His mind dragged and his magic was slow to respond. There was a breath before his mind registered the sensation of his body absorbing someone else's magic not under his own power. Eyelights were forced into existence enough for him to gain a blurry, upside down view of his brother's face. His shoulders were in his brother's lap, his head resting against the magic that filled out his brother's midsection when clothed.

Orange tears dripped from Papyrus's complex expression. Honestly, the only emotion Sans could clearly comprehend was the affronted disappointment that was becoming very familiar. "You're an idiot."

He huffed a laugh. It made every bone in his torso ache. "Tell me something I don't know."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you're carrying?"

Confusion washed through Sans just as sharply as the bewilderment and panic. Pinprick eyelights snapped to Papyrus's face, searching. "Carrying what?" he asked, drawing the words out and hoping the answer was not what he was thinking.

The frown made his soul stop.

"You don't know."

"Clearly," he bit back, the panic seeping into his voice.

"Sans. You're carrying a souling."

For a moment, he thought he had died. That or this was the wildest trip of a dream he'd ever had and he had one fucked up coma dream to contend with. But the silence between them dragged on and his brother didn't say a word to him only making it all _worse_.

"No."

He scrambled upright. Papyrus was speaking to him - shouting at him - but he didn't hear a word. He pulled at his soul and the familiar magical pull had all of his attention on the soul that formed in his waiting palm.

The hysterical laugh that was cut off by a sob startled him. Papyrus's arms were around him before the noise finished. He curled forward against his brother's hold, entire being shaking as the truth shone brightly against his dim blue soul.

There was a pure white soul pressed right up against the center of his, pulsing right along with his half a second behind.

Denial burned as sharply as the panic and he shook his head, spitting out between the sobs and giggles that were trying to suffocate him. "No, it's-it's not possible. We were...there's no way. It can't be possible. We weren't-" His head slipped beneath the waves of grief and it was a struggle to even keep going, let alone shove the words past his tongue. Four months and he was finally losing it. "We weren't trying. There was-there was so much not done right. This shouldn't be. This shouldn't be happening!"

A crack shot across his soul and the new soul trembled against his. The crack was a wave of pain worse than anything Gaster had ever inflicted upon him but watching the little soul _cower_ from the sudden threat that was Sans to himself shot through his awareness so sharply, it broke the hysterics he was in. He pulled his soul closer, suddenly offering soft words of encouragement even as the crack itself throbbed painfully.

He flinched back into Papyrus from the sudden movement out of his peripheral. To his relief, it was only his brother's hand already consumed by the green glow of healing magic coming up to hover over his soul and the souling, repairing the damage Sans hadn't intended to cause to himself.

He hadn't tried not to, either, and it was a miracle he hadn't cracked his soul long before now with how poorly he was taking care of himself.

The little soul seemed to settle and he felt the breath Papyrus released in surprise rather than hear it as the other's ribs contracted shakily with it. "What?" he asked in a whisper.

"It's taking my magic."

He looked up at his brother. Those sockets were locked onto the bright light against Sans's soul. "Can you…" He had to take a breath, resettle himself as the panic tried to set in again. "Do you mind giving me some magic?"

The green healing magic blinked immediately into orange and Sans shuddered at the sudden onslaught of magic from his brother. His soul immediately returned to a healthy glow and the souling seemed even brighter now.

"How much do you know about skeleton pregnancy, Pap?"

Sans felt Papyrus shrug. "Not much, unfortunately. I am correct in presuming you know quite a bit?"

He nodded though he shot his brother a cheeky grin. "I'm surprised the sex ed classes didn't stick in yer head."

Orange magic shot across Papyrus's face in the equivalent of a blush as the lankier sputtered, "Skeletons were not a heavily covered subject. The teacher had no knowledge to give me."

Sans frowned at that. "Human or monster?"

Papyrus sighed. "Monster."

"Huh." He focused back on his soul and watched as a thin layer of blue magic drifted up from his soul and wrapped around the little souling at his coaxing. "Well, what I'm doing now is what is known as 'soul stasis', though the term isn't quite accurate. I'm binding the little soul to mine to give it the highest chance of becoming strong enough to 'drop.'."

"Drop?"

Sans hummed. "For skeletons, the souling very rarely is anything other than a skeleton so our way of, ah, birthing is pretty standard. We create a sort of ectoflesh based housing between the ribs and pelvis that helps incubate and grow the souling when the soul is too large to remain attached to the carrier's. It's called 'dropping' because the soul literally drops from the soul into the cavity of magic."

"How long does all of this last?"

"How long till we get to meet the souling proper?" he clarified. He gained a confirmative hum. "Well, that depends." Papyrus's arm tightened around him. "Skeleton births have a very low success rate. If the souling doesn't get reabsorbed before dropping, there is still the chance of it...aborting, for a lack of a better term."

"It could die?"

He sucked in a sharp breath and there was a wave of phantom pain from a crack that was no longer there. While the words weren't exactly accurate, he offered weakly, "Yeah. It could die before its born."

There was a fluctuation in the magic pouring into him and he was grateful Papyrus didn't try increasing it. Sans was reaching his intake limit as it was.

"If it makes its, how long?"

Sans took a breath to think and do some math. "I can - and probably will - stasis the souling for as long as I can, which is my par-" his voice cracked and he had to try again- "my partner's species's gestation length, which makes that nine months. My gestation period will be half my partner's so four and a half months after that if all goes well."

"And we're just over four months in, leaving us another five before it even drops."

The wave of grief at the reminder stole his voice so he only hummed in response.

A thought struck him and he pulled away from Papyrus to turn and look at him. It broke the magic transfer and Sans felt his soul and burden return to his chest. "What makes you think Alex is the sire?"

Papyrus gave him an incredulous look, though there was a glint in it that made him wince. Papyrus hadn't been sure but he had guessed and Sans had just confirmed his suspicion. "Sans, you've been grieving too hard to have soul sex with anyone even if you were even slightly interested-"

"You don't-"

"-and because I know you two." A painful pause and Papyrus amended, "Knew you two. Neither of you had given the full truth as to why he was comfortable with you pulling his soul out." The sockets looking down on him narrowed. "Were you?"

Sans felt his face burn with magic and he shook his head. "But that doesn't explain-"

"Alex loved you." Memories slammed into him unbidden and he tried not to cringe. "And I knew you would love him again if just given the moment." Papyrus's expression fell a bit. "He never told me outright what had happened after the game night before your coma. I didn't see either of you till after you had Fallen and I had only gotten non-answers from Alex. I assumed you two had made plans that were suddenly on hold."

Sans nodded, settling more comfortably on the floor. "I had promised him a date the same day I, ah, Fell, as you so put it." He ran a hand over the top of his skull. "The night before his cardiac arrest episode, I had gained back some of the memories around that situation. As well as others pertaining to Alex specifically; things that had made me fall in love with him in the first place."

"So you two had 'make up sex'."

Sans laughed, though it caught in his throat. "I mean, you're not wrong," he offered with a cheeky grin even as his sockets burned. "But a single night of awesome sex doesn't make a baby; especially not in skeletons. A souling has to be wanted by both parties and even then, it requires genetic contribution from a human partner and very specific circumstances; sometimes countless attempts before there's the start of a souling that may or may not make it to term. Simple soul sex wouldn't cause a souling between a skeleton and a human."

Papyrus arched an eye ridge at him. "And you're wanting me to believe that you didn't get 'genetic contribution' as you so called it."

Sans's face felt like it was on fire. The blush was so bad that Sans could make out the glow at the edge of his vision. "Not on my soul!"

"You're sure?"

Sans opened his mouth but he knew he wasn't. There was no guarantee that he hadn't and even his memories that were more sensation and emotion than actual visual anymore had enough visual for him to acknowledge that he hadn't tried to consider the possible consequences of their actions. It hadn't even been a possibility to consider and yet here he was reaping the consequences.

Papyrus's hand cupped the side of his face, bringing his attention back up to Papyrus's expression. He blinked, realizing as his vision cleared that he was crying. "What do you need from me?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know much in the way of skeleton pregnancies, remember? What can I do for you in Alex's place?"

Sans rubbed at his face, thinking. "I'll need magic."

"Done."

Sans blinked, his train of thought interrupted by Papyrus's bluntness. He smiled. "And I'll need help keeping an eye on my poor health habits." He reached up and held onto the forearm of the hand still touching him. "But you can't tell anyone about the souling." Papyrus opened his mouth but Sans cut him off. "I don't want to get everyone excited only for the souling to not make it. Please, Papyrus. Only for a little while. I can't…." Sans couldn't hold his brother's gaze anymore. "I can't do that to anyone."

"Alright," came the soft reply and Sans smiled weakly. "But if I'm to keep an eye on you, you have to listen to me."

Sans chuckled weakly, bringing his gaze back up. "I can certainly try."

Papyrus nodded, expression serious. "Good." Papyrus stood and Sans was suddenly very wary. "You will eat and then you will sleep. You will take the rest of today to rest and do nothing." He opened his mouth but Papyrus simply pointed the oven mitt at him like it was a weapon. "Four months without my attention and you've cracked your soul. No. You are taking today off. They can get well enough along without you. I will speak with Asgore if I have to."

A laugh bubbled out of his chest and for the first time since Alex's passing, he felt like he could actually take on the world a little bit better. "Alright, Pap. Whatever you say."

Papyrus's expression softened and happiness blossomed on the other's face as it was mirrored in Sans's soul. Maybe, just maybe, things wouldn't be so bad.


End file.
